The universal potential for redemption in each and every human being is central to the moral philosophy of Dr. Primrose, the novel, and Goldsmith himself. While Dr. Primrose is a paragon of goodness, at worst guilty of mostly harmless instances of pride, he remains utterly faithful to the possibility of redemption for the very wicked. Though this is primarily a Christian principle, for Dr. Primrose it extends into all aspects of secular life and should govern the everyday moral behavior of individual people as well. This redemptive vision for society is most clearly on display in the prison, where Dr. Primrose, despite the naysayers in his own family, embarks on an ambitious project of reforming the prisoners by preaching to them, encouraging them to use their skills productively, and challenging them to hold each other responsible for their behavior. For Dr. Primrose, redemption is not only about the afterlife, though that is clearly on his mind; rather, he believes just as firmly that the prisoners can be redeemed in this world, too, and that they can become healthy members of society with the right amount of attention and care. Likewise, Jenkinson goes above and beyond in redeeming himself for his past, making amends to the Primroses for defrauding them and accepting responsibility for enabling Squire Thornhill, and he is justly rewarded as a result. The Squire is in fact the only major character guilty of wickedness who is not morally redeemed by the novel’s conclusion, but Goldsmith deliberately leaves open the possibility that even he, too, may someday become good. Olivia, in preparing to take the Squire in if he changes his ways, is embodying the morals her father—and Goldsmith—have preached and indeed lived throughout all their challenges. Through these character arcs, Goldsmith argues that no human being is too wicked to be redeemed; a moral society must both recognize this fact and be ready to forgive even the worst of trespasses.
The Possibility of Redemption ThemeTracker
The Possibility of Redemption Quotes in The Vicar of Wakefield
When gone, we all regarded each other for some minutes with confusion. My wife, who knew herself to be the cause, strove to hide her concern with a forced smile, and an air of assurance, which I was willing to reprove: ‘How, woman,’ cried I to her, ‘is it thus we treat strangers? Is it thus we return their kindness? Be assured, my dear, that these were the harshest words, and to me the most unpleasing that ever escaped your lips!’ – ‘Why would he provoke me then,’ replied she; ‘but I know the motives of his advice perfectly well. He would prevent my girls from going to town, that he may have the pleasure of my youngest daughter’s company here at home. But whatever happens, she shall chuse better company than such low-lived fellows as he.’ – ‘Low-lived, my dear, do you call him,’ cried I, ‘it is very possible we may mistake this man’s character: for he seems upon some occasions the most finished gentleman I ever knew.’
‘Wife,’ said I, ‘do not talk thus hardly: my detestation of her guilt is as great as yours; but ever shall this house and this heart be open to a poor returning repentant sinner. The sooner she returns from her transgression, the more welcome she shall be to me. For the first time the very best may err; art may persuade, and novelty spread out its charm. The first fault is the child of simplicity; but every other the offspring of guilt. Yes, the wretched creature shall be welcome to this heart and this house, tho’ stained with ten thousand vices. I will again hearken to the music of her voice, again will I hang fondly on her bosom, if I find but repentance there. My son, bring hither my bible and my staff; I will pursue her, wherever she is, and tho’ I cannot save her from her shame, I may prevent the continuance of iniquity.
The kindness of heaven is promised to the penitent, and let ours be directed by the example. Heaven, we are assured, is much more pleased to view a repentant sinner, than ninety nine persons who have supported a course of undeviating rectitude. And this is right; for that single effort by which we stop short in the down-hill path to perdition, is itself a greater exertion of virtue, than an hundred acts of justice.
Thus philosophy is weak; but religion comforts in an higher strain. Man is here, it tells us, fitting up his mind and preparing it for another abode. When the good man leaves the body and is all a glorious mind, he will find he has been making himself a heaven of happiness here, while the wretch that has been maimed and contaminated by his vices, shrinks from his body with terror, and finds that he has anticipated the vengeance of heaven. To religion then we must hold in every circumstance of life for our truest comfort; for if already we are happy, it is a pleasure to think that we can make that happiness unending, and if we are miserable, it is very consoling to think that there is a place of rest. Thus to the fortunate religion holds out a continuance of bliss, to the wretched a change from pain.
Then let us take comfort now, for we shall soon be at our journey’s end; we shall soon lay down the heavy burthen laid by heaven upon us, and though death, the only friend of the wretched, for a little while mocks the weary traveller with the view, and like his horizon, still flies before him; yet the time will certainly and shortly come, when we shall cease from our toil; when the luxurious great ones of the world shall no more tread us to the earth; when we shall think with pleasure on our sufferings below; when we shall be surrounded with all our friends, or such as deserved our friendship; when our bliss shall be unutterable, and still, to crown all, unending.
‘I must confess, Sir,’ cried he, ‘that your present disappointment does not entirely displease me. Your immoderate passion for wealth is now justly punished. But tho’ the young lady cannot be rich, she has still a competence sufficient to give content. Here you see an honest young solider, who is willing to take her without fortune; they have long loved each other, and for the friendship I bear his father, my interest shall not be wanting in his promotion. Leave then that ambition which disappoints you, and for once admit that happiness which courts your acceptance.’
After supper, as my spirits were exhausted by the alternations of pleasure and pain which they had sustained during the day, I asked permission to withdraw, and leaving the company in the midst of their mirth, as soon as I found myself alone, I poured out my heart in gratitude to the giver of joy as well as of sorrow, and then slept undisturbed till morning.